


The Great Pretender

by Bond Girl (Bond_Girl)



Category: The Vampire Diaries
Genre: Blood Drinking, Creepy Crows, Doppelganger, Multi, Sibling Incest, Vampires, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:38:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bond_Girl/pseuds/Bond%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immortality isn't a cure for illusions.</p><p>A snapshot of Damon's relationships with Stefan, Katherine, Vicki, and Elena; a dash of incest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Pretender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sage (sageness)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/gifts).



> • warnings: blood, fangs, blood; dub-con; no redemption; incest; horny crows  
> • liberties with timelines were taken  
> • this is a Damon characterization from very early episodes

A black crow caws twelve times at midnight.

No one pays attention to the omens. Two people are too busy making out, two people are too busy watching them from afar.

Stefan's hands are inevitably creeping to Elena's delicate, delicious throat against his better judgment; Damon's fingers are tangled in the short leash of Vicki's long hair - to keep them both from joining in the fun, however the definition of it may vary.

Damon has seen these two together before; their entwined shadows play tricks with his mind, muddling what's left clear of the past after a century and a half of denial, anger, bargaining, boredom, _boredom_. His fool of a brother and the spitting image of his lost love, Damon is riveted to this trainwreck. Or rather an ironic historic reenactment of a crime of passion that left two innocent people undead.

The brothers might have started their hereafter with a bang, but only Damon has turned their misfortune into a life that might not be pure gold but he doesn't care. As long as it glitters. Stefan who used to be afraid of a monster under his bed, has never embraced the monster within. Their hunts could have been so much more fun together; feral games and Damon would always leave the little brother the last bite.

You _are_ what you eat and on his possum diet, Stefan's been playing deader than the dead. Feeding on people might not turn Damon human, but he sure loves the taste of humanity, and the fight is a far superior flavor than the flight.

Even as a vampire, Vicki is a great example of that spirit, straining against Damon's hold, laying her hands on him, mirroring what Elena's doing to his brother. Damon's hips cant into her touch while Stefan's shy away from Elena's insistence.

Stefan's bad luck is that he died a prude. Being a vampire is a messy business, that of unsavory, primal emotions and of red trickling down your clean-shaven chin. Damon believes that the afterlife calls for more living. Maybe not living alone though, as humans are like pets, full of delightful surprises, but not a substitute for real companionship. He won't lie, he enjoys surrounding himself with puppets; yet they never quite satisfy, lacking his species' privilege of free will.

This is why Damon has put an end to his last incarnation as a mildly successful rockstar in one of those cities that never sleep, and come back to his brother - to blow 145 candles on a cake for the anniversary of their deaths and to spend some quality family time on squabbling. Maybe for a crazy shot at freeing Katherine. Little did he know. This is _so_ much better than Plan A and Damon almost doesn't miss the sweet, willing groupies he could fang all night long and those crazy parties tumbling into one another like dominoes.

As Vicki right now, Stefan may growl and snap rebelliously, but he must know as well as Damon that what's a century and a half of petty family issues when a together forever and a silly old love song about a cruel girl is all they've got.

Family comes first, this has always been the Salvatore way. Until Katherine, until this moment. You'd think that blood ties should be thicker than water, considering which one of those two makes the vampire world go round.

Damon is _very_ disappointed with Stefan's breach of sibling loyalty. His brother has turned out this selfish, secretive creature, hoarding Elena like some _chipmunk_. No offense to the little cheerleader, but Stefan is deluded as to why their little dead hearts beat for her. Second chances don't come perkier, leggier, with more glint in the dark eyes or a disarming kindness to strangers with fangs and candy.

Vicki's lips are getting raw on the fresh scruff under Damon's indulgent jaw, but their promise isn't what's putting the heat into Damon's smile right here, right now. It's the thought of him molding into the curves of Elena's back, his fingers threading with Stefan's on her shoulders.

It'd be like coming home.

If only Stefan let his big brother take care of this dead ringer opportunity for their greater good but Damon suspects his brilliant idea would be met with a righteous uproar as Stefan would leap on that old soapbox to lobby ardently for the vampire to human rights equality. Annoying to true death in anyone else, the noise about this ridiculous concept is tolerable when brought on by his little brother, eyes aglow and veins fierce in all the superior, terrifying glory of their species.

Damon would have done so much more with this puppet. Their lashes almost mingling, her little heart stuttering with the warm bursts of his whisper; his fingers threading through her heavy hair and braiding it to his will; his mouth and its reverent hunger close to her skin, brushing over the faint blue, beating veins on her bent neck; the sudden call of her racing pulse and the first taste of her on his fangs.

He has already smelled on Elena's siren scent that he wouldn't even have to make her like him in the way she likes Stefan, only a little nudge to erase those unfortunate first impressions between them. Dead or alive, Damon has always had problems, but the ladies have never been one, and his fingers are splayed on the small of Vicki's catlike back.

Seduction is a bit of a vampire mojo that Damon loves to work. Stefan, this advanced case of an arrested vampire development, has never quite appreciated the finer points of the art of compulsion. One has to channel the love if love is what being compelled. Every time, as his pupils blow dark and melt over the cold blue of his eyes with persuasion, Damon pretends not to enjoy his phantom limb of a heart stirring.

Damon would love to teach Elena how to be the vicious, precious thing that was Katherine. He would glue his lover back from shards of his memories and this obstinate human clay, and he'd only keep the best parts. The way Katherine held her limber body straight, daring their touch; the glint of teeth bared wolfish and unladylike in her pretty smile; the wonderful ways she wrung their willing bodies dry for her pleasure, even with her fangs retracted. He would toss away the little white lies and the big dirty games and Katherine's frustrating tendency to always put Stefan first.

He might even tell Elena about the unspeakable way Katherine asked him to love her together with his brother once, and how her clever body quietly slipped away from the tangle of their sweaty limbs, and how they never noticed until it was too late for pretense. It stings how Stefan was the one who had urged Damon between his country-boy strong, golden-dusted thighs. And later pretended that their night had never happened, depriving Damon of any chance on absolution.

Damon spins this tale to himself until he cuts himself on the edge of a memory. Truth's teeth are razorblade and, grabbing Vicki's neck in a surprise headlock of a hug, hiding his face in the softness of her hair, he bleeds more flashbacks. He remembers that Katherine would have been fangs out furious at any, anyone's attempt to replace her. Remakes are always a dumb idea even if the static electricity between Elena and him is quite mutual. It's Stefan who wouldn't buy into Damon's reboot of the eternity of hunting and loving for three.

His Pygmalion fantasy is as pathetic as the heel of his palm pressing along the length of his hard-on, aching and unspent.

As pathetically, Stefan and Elena keep their scene PG-13. Possibly because, the curtain of her raven hair flicking back and forth, Elena feels watched and keeps glancing up at the jealously croaking crow in the swaying branches above their heads.

Damon doesn't want to feel as sad as their lives and Vicki's newborn lust for blood can no longer be denied. He snaps his fingers, allowing the girl to break the unfeeling skin of his wrist with her baby vampire fangs. The rush is bone-deep good. As if they were both human, as if she were someone else whose heart was still beating as if it had never stopped - at Damon's hand, a century and a half back.

Damon feeds longtime on the sweet dregs of mortality in her blood, snarling with pleasure, even after they're both spent against a tree, their trembling legs astride and the palms of their hands getting splintered. Damon's in no rush to while away the eternity as he's waiting for Stefan; he's got time.

Time is all Damon's got. Days full of delusions, and weeks full of pointless plotting, and months punctuated by the ends that never quite meet.

The crow doesn't caw for him.


End file.
